Dumbledore's Mistake
by turayza
Summary: v. 2.0. AU. The wizarding world thinks Neville is the boy-who-defeated-Voldemort. This is a story about how one little mistake can change lives. No pairings at the moment. The rating will go up as we progress.
1. Halloween

A/N: If you're wondering, the chapter one of Dumbledore's Mistake v.1 and v.2 are the same chapter. It's only up to set up what's going to happen later on…there are minor changes, but they aren't that important. You can read it again if you need a refresher.

**Chapter One**

Glitteringly sparkly enchanted orange jack-o-lanterns hovered about in the air, traveling throughout the quiet Godric's Hollow. Each pretty little white-picket-fence house was decorated in a bit to outdo its neighbors. In one particularly extravagantly festive house, two families were joined in celebration.

The Potters and the Longbottoms, two pureblood light families, celebrated Halloween in the Potter Manor. The enormous manor's hallways were strewn with orange and black confetti, and each room had jerkily flying candy charmed to mob any entrant to the room.

Cheery laughter floated from the large living room as the youngest Potter, Harry, and the youngest Longbottom, Neville, had a good-natured candy fight.

The one-year-old Harry Potter and Neville Longbottom sat side-by-side, giggling as they gobbled up chocolate frogs, sugar quills, orange and black jelly beans, and many more sugary confections. Lily Potter and Alice Longbottom sat on a couch behind their sons, chatting about the going-ons of the social elite. James Potter and Frank Longbottom sat across each other over a forgotten game of chess, lost in a heated debate over Quidditch teams and the Wizarding Stock Market.

Over the din of their chatter, no one heard the protective wards falling. It wasn't until the intruders tripped the alarm that the Potters and Longbottoms noticed, and by then it was much too late. With a bang, the front door was blasted out of existence. Alice and Frank Longbottom rushed to confront the cloaked and masked figures as James and Lily Potter tried to rush the two children upstairs.

"Crucio!" A cackling Death Eater said madly, her cruelly grinning mouth all that you could see of her covered face. From behind the white mask, her eyes glinted with blood lust as she shot the unforgivable at Alice Longbottom.

"No! Don't touch her!" Frank yelled, pushing Alice out of the way. It was, unfortunately, too late.

"Heehee. Too bad she's gone. Your turn!" the witch said, cackling. Alice Longbottom had lost her mind to the cruciatius, and Frank Longbottom would soon follow.

Meanwhile, the Potters had carried Harry and Neville into a hidden room that Lily had made several years ago. The room's entrance was behind a small porcelain vase, and the door was child-sized and warded with a multitude of dark-repellant spells. Hearing the stomping footsteps of Death Eaters, James Potter whirled around and tried to lead the Death Eaters away.

"Avada Kedavra", Voldemort said calmly, after easily deflecting the 'stupefy' James had shot at him. James Potter slumped down as soon as the jet of green hit him, dead.

Unknowing of her husband's very recent death, Lily Potter shoved Neville into the little alcove. Neville was scratched by a pair of two nails sticking out, which gave him a small but deep x-shaped scar on his cheek. Before Lily could hide Harry, Voldemort appeared before her.

"Move away, mudblood", he said, sniffing disdainfully. "You may live to see another day."

"No!" Lily cried out, sobbing. "Don't kill Harry! Kill me instead!"

Lily threw herself out in front of her son with her arms spread out.

With a brief 'Avada Kedavra', Lily Potter was dead.

"Foolish girl…Avada Kedavra!" Voldemort said, pointing his wand at Harry. The jet of green light shot towards the one-year-old's head…and was absorbed by a glowing golden orb of light. The light grew in intensity until Voldemort was forced to turn away. All of a sudden, the light shot a burst of green towards Voldemort and Voldemort was gone.

As the light faded, Harry began to laugh, thinking the colorful lights were pretty and happy. He poked his mother's corpse curiously, and sat down looking slightly upset, knocking over and shattering the porcelain vase.

Neville peeked out nervously from his hiding place and grabbed Harry's shirt, alerting Harry to his presence. The two sat in silence, as if waiting for their parents to return and shout 'Happy Halloween!'

Loud disruptions filled the house as the Order charged in. Upon reaching them, a horrified Remus Lupin scooped up the children and apparated them to Order headquarters.

--

Dumbledore regarded the children with a frown. One of them had most definitely defeated Voldemort that night. Both of the boys suited the prophecy. Why did he, Dumbledore, always have the difficult decisions to make? Dumbledore stared at the two for a while more, examining the x-shaped scar and comparing it to the lightning bolt shaped one. There didn't seem to be any particular identifying feature of an Avada Kedavra bouncing off, and both of them were candidates of the Prophecy. Finally, Dumbledore decided that it could be either one and picked the one with the scar that was deeper and more dangerous-looking.

--

The Order sat around a massive circular table. All the pairs of eyes were facing Dumbledore, expecting important news. The whole Order had been called that night. Dumbledore, smiling grimly, announced,

"Voldemort has been defeated!" Then, holding up Neville Longbottom, Dumbledore added, "And this child was the one who did it!"

The members of the Order burst into cheers and they immediately went to crowd Dumbledore and Neville. A din broke out as people cried, laughed, questioned, and much more. Many rejoicing Order members left to spread the good news. Neville was coined the nickname "The Boy-Who-Lived", and Harry was left, forgotten, by all but Dumbledore.

--

Dumbledore held two little squirming bundles. One was Neville Longbottom, the Boy-Who-Lived, and the other, Harry Potter, was a newly made orphan.

Dumbledore flooed Augusta Longbottom, Neville's grandmother, and handed the hero of the wizarding world to the shocked witch. Smiling sympathetically for Augusta's loss and congratulating her for Neville's achievements, Dumbledore bid her goodbye and apparated to Private Drive.

--

The aged wizard with a long, white beard and bespeckled glasses held up the small bundle that was Harry Potter. They had appeared in a very ordinary looking neighborhood filled with very ordinary looking houses.

With a wave of his wand, Dumbledore blacked out the neighborhood. He slowly approached one of the very ordinary looking houses, pausing only when he stood right before the door.

Giving Harry Potter one final, slightly sorrowful glance, Dumbledore, set the little bundle down and disappeared.


	2. Life at the Dursleys

_A/N 1 Jun 2009: Hi everyone! I hope all my readers realize that this story IS definitely going to be different, and that it's only the first chapter that is mostly the same. You'll see after you read a bit more with this chapter…but it probably won't be evident until chapters 4 and 5. Thanks for sticking around!_

_A/N 13 Jun 2009: Hey guys! Sorry about the long wait. I actually had this all written up, but finals came around and…you know. I'm not the most dependable person. I hope this doesn't disappoint. I really appreciate everyone who added or reviewed. Thanks to: jayley, LadyGaelen, panther73110, phoenixi77, abillingy, power214063, Jessalynvix, jabarber69, Snuggalette, jesusfreak100percent, BlackPhoenixMage, krr84, Bratling, SeulWolfe, MoonBunnyPrincess, Chakahlah, Ishikawa-san, lilyp 90, LadyAlston, Kino Wolfie Head, Zanthia2, Relvain Jenafuse, Blue1eyes, TimFitz21, 3abzorno, Silver Twilight's Moon, bargavl, hillbrodeur, hillbrodeur, DreamsRemorse, animeangel088, odepotmike, dodo-HP, vnienhuis, kristaphoenix, olly86, BigD2k, Rental Brain, Knyghtshade, zindiq, deathxofxthexbetrayed, Aiko819, siela14, fairytopian, Badenwill, jueru2003, kitten7315, Hkokuryuha, The Blackest Night, coolkl93, shihimesama_

_A/N 23 Jun 2009: I know, too many Author's Notes. Annoying. But I still need a beta! I had a few before, but stuff came up and none of them actually edited anything…-mutters- I'll keep looking, but if any of you have recommendations…? Well, here goes the first real new chapters. Leave a review!_

**Chapter Two: Life at the Dursleys'**

A skinny-looking boy of about eight years of age sat on a coverless mattress, blinking slowly. His vivid green eyes reflected the small glimmers of light filtering down from cracks in the ceiling, glinting slightly even though the only light bulb in his cramped living space was broken. In the dimness, one could just barely catch the raven-black color of his hair and the bagginess of his too-large clothes. The quietness of his owlish stare was disturbed by loud stomping noises, followed by a cloud of dust which descended on his head. Harry fumbled in the darkness until his small, skinny fingers grasped a pair of crooked, duct-taped-together glasses. His cupboard door swung sharply open just as he slid his glasses onto his face and a pointy, rigid woman poked her head in.

"Get up!" she snapped, tossing a pile of clean but certainly unfitting clothes at him and shutting the door quickly, as if afraid of contamination or revolted by his presence.

Harry quickly grabbed the clothes and slipped them on, adjusting his glasses on his face. Nudging the door carefully, he pushed it aside only to have it slammed back at him, raucous Dudley-laughter filling his ears. Sighing, Harry opened his cupboard door again and went into the dining room, head down and shoulder hunched.

"Sit," a pudgy man commanded, staring at Harry suspiciously as Harry brought a plate of bacon he cooked over to the table. "Boy, you better listen carefully." Harry's gaze flicked up to his uncle's face before Harry looked away again. "Today is Dudley's first day of third grade and you better not mess it up for him. Don't make trouble and don't talk to anyone. If I hear of anything…" Vernon Dursley narrowed his eyes and snorted contemptuously.

Petunia, the woman made of all sharp angles, pushed the whole plate of bacon at Dudley and encouraged the boy to eat.

Vernon frowned at Harry again. "Don't forget, you're not to say anything about your freakish family. Nothing, understood? They died in a car accident and that was that." Vernon paused. "Not even your last name, you hear? As far as I'm concerned, the Potters do not exist. Nothing! Say nothing about it!"

"Yes Uncle," Harry muttered, pretending to be fascinated with a square on the tablecloth. Harry reached up and adjusted his glasses again.

When they finally arrived at school Vernon patted Dudley on the Head and Petunia dabbed at invisible tears.

"Go get them, son," Vernon said gruffly, very proud of his large song.

Vernon then turned to frown at Harry. "No funny business, understood? I better not hear anything about you. Anything!"

Harry nodded mutely and scampered out of the car. The moment he shut the door, the shiny black sedan he had taken to school zoomed off, leaving Harry alone. Harry walked slowly toAs the entrance of the school, taking in everything that was the same as last year. He was woken out of him musings by a tap on the shoulder, and when he turned around, saw Dudley.

"Gimme your lunch, freak," Dudley said, holding out a pudgy hand.

Harry shook his head.

"Give it to me! I saw you making it! It looks better than mine, and I want it! Gimme!" Dudley was about to grab Harry's backpack and run for it, when someone else spoke.

"Is there a problem here?" A kind voice asked. Harry looked up and saw a middle-aged man with light brown hair.

"He took my lunch!" Dudley whined, pouting and pointing at Harry. "I want it back."

"No," Harry said. "I didn't." He stared at Dudley with a sinking feeling in his stomach. Dudley always got his way, and teachers never believed the little scrawny boy anyways.

"Why don't we come in to my classroom to figure this out, alright?" the man asked, guiding them towards the school.

"No!" Dudley complained, stamping his foot, "I want it back NOW!"

The man frowned slightly, but the expression quickly disappeared.

"Are you Mr. Black?" Harry asked suddenly. The man looked at him in mild surprise.

"Why, yes. Are you two going to be my third graders?"

"I want my lunch back!" Dudley said loudly, annoyed with being ignored. "He stole my lunch."

Mr. Black held up his hand. "Relax. Your lunch isn't going to disappear. Both of you, take everything out of your backpacks and put them on the table."

Dudley's face turned an ugly shade of frustrated puce. "I just want my lunch!" Dudley pointed at the brown paper bag Harry pulled out of his backpack.

"It's mine," Harry said, frowning at Dudley. "You have one already."

Dudley reached out the grab Harry's lunch sack but Mr. Black held out an arm to stop him.

"Dudley, is it?" Mr. Black smiled warmly. "Take everything out of your backpack, please."

Dudley grudgingly shook his backpack upside down, shiny new notebooks, pencils and markers falling out along with a cool blue metal lunch box.

Mr. Black glanced at Harry's ruffled, worn booklets and his used erasers before picking up Dudley's lunchbox, proudly labeled "Dudley Dursley."

"It's very bad to lie, Dudley." Mr. Black sighed. "It's even worse to falsely accuse someone else."

Harry looked up at his new teacher in surprise, adoration in his eyes. "Thank you, Mr. Black."

Harry adjusts his glasses when he's mad, but trying to hide it.


	3. New Home

_I'm afraid I fell off the face of the earth. Maybe the muse will be a little more compliant from now on. Oh! And in case anyone was confused Mr. Black is not Sirius, just an ordinary, kind muggle…_

_Disclaimer: Harry Potter and magic belongs to JK Rowling ):_

**Chapter Three: Homeless**

The end-of-school bell tolled loudly, signifying freedom for everyone. Harry packed his things slowly, not really wanting to return home.

"Harry, would you come over here?" Mr. Black asked quietly, beckoning to his desk. "I noticed some…discrepancies…between the treatment of you and your cousin today. You live together, correct?"

"Yeah…" Harry looked down. His second-grade teacher had noticed also, called in Vernon and Petunia, and Harry had been punished at home for a month, for embarrassing them.

"I'm concerned, Harry. Children living in the same house should not be treated differ—"

"Please don't say anything!" Harry begged, looking up at his new teacher, "it's not a big deal, really."

Mr. Black frowned, and sighed. "I suppose I can let it go for now. But I will have to inform them of the little incident today." He paused, uncomfortable. "And, Harry, I want you to know—if you need anyone to confide in, please talk to me."

"Boy!" Harry heard his uncle's voice shout through his cupboard door. "You come out here right now!"

Harry sighed and put his stub of a pencil down on his math homework. Rubbing the bridge or his nose slightly, the boy slipped his crooked glasses back on and pushed open the unlatched cupboard door.

"Yes, uncle?" Harry asked hesitantly.

"Do you know who just called me?" Petunia asked shrilly, seeming a mixture of angry and embarrassed. "Your teacher, that's who! First day of school, and I get a call from the teacher!"

"I knew you were bad news," Vernon said loudly, before Harry could protest. "We should have made you take second grade again."

"But I didn't—" Harry began, holding his hands up in confusion.

"Oh, I know you did this," Vernon accused, pointing a pudgy finger at Harry. "You and your freaky ways…you got Dudley into trouble on his very first day of third grade!"

"My poor little Duddikins," Petunia crooned, hugging her large son who had come to watch the Harry-bashing.

"I didn't do anything! Dudley tried to—"

"Lying again, huh? Well, I'm certainly not as stupid as your teacher! I won't fall for your lies!" Vernon declared.

"You know what Mr. Black accused my dear little Duddikins of doing? LYING!" Petunia sniffed disdainfully. "He should have known better, but you and your…_strangeness_…" Petunia pursed her lips, as if she were sucking on a very sour lemon.

"We feed you, give you a roof to sleep under, and this is how you repay us? Is that it?" Vernon growled, blotchy red spots beginning to appear on his face.

"I already told you—"

"LIES!" Vernon cut Harry off. "Again with the lies! We know it's your fault! We know!"

"He stole my lunch!" Harry protested.

"Duddikins wouldn't do anything like anything like that," Petunia said sharply, glaring at Harry.

"Exactly!" Vernon added loudly, slamming his fist into his palm.

"Listen to me!" Harry snapped back, losing his temper. "I didn't DO anything!"

A small silence followed Harry's outburst.

"OUT!" Vernon roared, red blotches becoming purple ones. "OUT! NOW!"

Harry stared at his uncle, not quite processing the statement.

"I WILL NOT HAVE ANYONE SPEAK TO ME WITH THAT TONE IN MY HOUSE! GET OUT!"

Harry's bright green eyes flashed before he turned sharply and ran out the front door, taking nothing with him.

About an hour later, Harry's stomach complained loudly.

The raven-haired third-grader sat on the side of the road, staring blankly at the black asphalt. The sun had begun to set and the warmth of day was beginning to fade. Rubbing his stomach slightly, Harry stood up and began to walk towards the nearest cluster of buildings. His stride sped into a run as a light sprinkle of rain turned into a downpour. Scurrying office workers sprinted to their cars under dull-colored umbrellas. Dark, heavy clouds covered the descending sun and a distant boom of thunder echoed in Harry's ears.

Seeing that many stores were closed already, Harry ducked under the awning of an out-of-place pub. The smell of food and flicker of flames lured the wet and hungry boy into the pub.

As soon as he stepped inside, his clothes seemed—almost magically—to dry. Blinking through his glasses, he stared at all the people around him, everyone dressed in varying shades of robes. Distractedly thinking about how strange everyone appeared, Harry noticed an abnormally large figure, a giant man with scraggly, bushy hair all over his face and a dinged-up umbrella. The large man was talking animatedly to a woman propped up against a brick wall. When she turned around and tapped on the wall a couple times, the bricks opened to reveal a whole city.

Harry stared, openmouthed. _A whole city was behind the wall? And how did the wall open in the first place?_

Hunger forgotten for the moment, Harry watched closely as the large man tapped at the brick wall. Seeing the opportunity, Harry scurried after the giant and made it into the city just before the wall sealed itself shut.

Harry's mind froze in awe as he saw all the magic around him. Not knowing what was going on, he wondered if perhaps he had gone crazy and was imagining everything, from the pub to the strange city. With the innocence of an unworried child, he meandered along the road, mind soaking in everything he could see. _Could that be…a broomstick? What was a broomstick doing in a display? _Harry walked up to the glass to examine the very shiny, floating broomstick.

"Isn't she beautiful?" a blonde boy about his age asked, looking awestruck. Harry glanced around. Was the boy talking to him?

"Er...what?" Harry elegantly replied.

"The Nimbus 1500, of course!" the blonde pointed at the shiny, floating broomstick on display.

Harry's face scrunched up in confusion. "What's so exciting about a cleaning tool?"

"You're funny!" the other boy said, laughing. Harry felt bewildered. "Hey, my name is Draco. Draco Malfoy. Who are you?"

The Dursleys having always told Harry that being a Potter was shameful, Harry blanched and said the first thing that came to mind. "I'm Harry Black. Nice to meet you."

Draco's eyes widened as the name struck a chord. "Ooh, my mum is a Black! We might be cousins!" His gaze drifted upwards. "Hey, there's my mum now!"

Harry saw a tall, thin woman with long blonde hair striding towards them, a frown on her face. "What have I told you about running off?" she demanded, grabbing Draco's hand. "You could be kidnapped or—"

"I made a new friend, mum!" Draco said, pointing at Harry excitedly. "He's quite funny, and he's a Black."

Narcissa's sharp gaze passed over Harry vaguely, lighting upon his dark hair. "Hm. That's nice, Draco. But we have to go home now, we have a dinner at the Parkinsons to attend soon." Draco's mother whisked him away, leaving Harry alone.

Harry gave the shiny broomstick—a Nimbus 1500, Draco had called it—one last curious glance before he continued walking down the street. His stomach grumbled in complaint once, but Harry was no stranger to hunger. He came upon a massive, old-looking building at what seemed to be the end of the street. "Gringotts Wizarding Bank" its marble sign proclaimed. He stood there, appreciating the large marble columns and how official it looked compared to the local HSBC (1) which Uncle Vernon always went to.

Harry was suddenly barreled into by a rather large woman, and fell over on the ground. _Ouch._ The woman looked horrified.

"Oh no, I'm so sorry! Are you hurt? I didn't see you there, oh no…"

"It's okay."

"No, it is most definitely not alright! I am so sorry." The woman paused, looking confused. "Where are your parents?"

"…" Harry wasn't sure what to say at that point. "Well…"

"You didn't run away, did you?" the woman asked, frowning at him. "What's your name?"

"I don't have any parents," he replied flatly, not wanting to be taken back to the Dursleys.

"Oh…I'm sorry," the woman said (again), a faint flush creeping up her neck. "Why don't I take you to Mary's House, and we'll see what they say." She grabbed Harry's hand and, with a pop, they disappeared.

After an unpleasant, squished-through-a-tube sort of feeling, Harry found himself in front of a large gate with "Mary's House" written boldly across it. "Come along, they will help you here," the woman said, opening the gate. Harry followed her obediently, through the gate and into a tall, plain building.

A tired social worker greeted them from behind a large table as they entered.

"Excuse me, I found a child wandering around Diagon Alley today," the fat woman said, pointing to Harry. "He says he's an orphan. I thought maybe you would know what to do?"

The social worker yawned. "Thanks for bringing him here, we can do the rest." As the fat woman left, the social worker beckoned Harry closer. "Hello there. Here at Mary's House, we take in children, no questions asked. Though…it would be nice to know your name. I'm Cherie."

"Harry." Said boy replied, torn between feeling lucky and feeling overwhelmed. "My name is Harry."

"Nice to meet you, Harry," Cherie replied, smiling slightly. "Welcome to Mary's House. We don't have that many kids here right now, but I'm sure you will meet someone you like. Why don't I take you to the residence floor, and have you choose a room?"

Thus, Harry began his life in the wizarding world.

1)HSBC is some British bank. I'm American, so I'm not certain about this.


End file.
